


Spideypool Drabbles

by TheDirtyBirdie



Series: Drabbles [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-05 20:28:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14626446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDirtyBirdie/pseuds/TheDirtyBirdie
Summary: A collection of Spideypool drabbles originally posted on tumblr.





	1. In Which Peter Is Way Too Easy

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** Some of these drabbles contain dub/non-con, read the summaries each chapter if you're concerned ♥

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Request:** _Wade makes a joke about being the king of eating ass and Peter can’t stop thinking about it._

“I’m serious, baby boy. Best in New York. If not the world. No, you know what? Scratch that. Definitely best in the world.”  
“ _Stop_  talking.” Peter begs through his laughter. He’s pretty sure he’s going to drop his ice cream if Wade doesn’t shut up soon.  
“Never, sweetheart. I’m the king of eating ass. Gonna have to keep saying it until you get it, maybe then you’ll let me have a crack at that-”   
“NOPE!” Peter shouts, shoving wade’s ice cream cone up into his face to stop him from talking. Some things he just doesn’t need to hear.

* * *

The thing is- the thing is it’s  _stupid_. It’s stupid because there’s no objective way that Wade is anywhere near being the best at eating ass. There are seven billion people on the planet, eight and a half million in the city alone. There’s just  _no way_. It’s especially stupid because Peter has just collapsed in his bed, near six in the morning, and this is what he’s thinking about.

 _Why the hell_ , is this what he’s thinking about?

Wade talks about his ass all the time. Pinches it, praises it, practically worships it. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just- Wade.

 _Though_ , his traitorous brain supplies,  _surely such worshipful attention to one’s behind is further evidence that Wade may be as good as he lets on_?

Peter’s brain is officially the enemy. 

* * *

Somehow, some way, they’re on the topic again. Some may argue that Peter perhaps led Wade in this direction, bending a little more than strictly necessary for a night in patrol, position a little too well pointed to be entirely incidental.

Peter would call those people  _liars_.

Still, the end result is the same. 

Wade is bragging and some kind of inexplicable madness seizes control of Peter’s brain because the next words out of his mouth are:

“Oh yeah?  _Prove it.”_ For the first time in recent memory, Wade goes quiet. There’s a palpable shift in the way he’s holding himself and it makes Peter shiver.  
“Yeah?” He asks, voice gone low. Peter swallows hard against the nervous arousal fighting it’s way up his chest.  
“Yeah.”

* * *

In what feels like no time flat they’re back in Peter’s apartment and Wade has him spread out and stripped down- which, Peter is going to choose to think about the fact that he’s just given away his secret identity and his home address in one go for the sake of getting Wade’s tongue up his ass  _later_. Or better yet, never.

He’s kneeling on the sofa, hanging over the back of it with his ass in the air. Wades weight sinks onto the cushions and he knocks Peter’s legs further apart before rough hands,  _gloved hands_ , Peter realizes, come up to grip his ass and spread him open.

There’s barely a moment for him to feel embarrassed before Wade leans forward and sinks his teeth into his asscheek. 

“ _Wade!_  What the fuck?!”  
“Baby boy, you have no idea how long I’ve  _needed_  to do that.” He groans.

Peter doesn’t complain because not a second later Wade is leaning in to run his tongue over the crease of Peter with surprising strength. He drags back up and when his tongue catches on the rim of Peter he  _tugs_ , he doesn’t even know how it’s possible but his knuckles go white where they’re wrapped around the sofa’s edge. 

Wade doesn’t waste any time picking him apart, after that. He drags his tongue over Peter, stopping to prod and suck and nip at his hole without ever  _quite_  giving him the satisfaction of slipping inside. He teases him until his cock is leaking, pushing just enough that Peter can feel the beginnings of a stretch and then pulling back and if he doesn’t put his tongue in his ass soon Peter is going to  _murder him_ , as many times as it takes for it to stick.

When he  _finally_  shoves his tongue into Peter’s ass, he does it without warning, all at once, and while Peter’s first instinct is to jerk forward, his desire overrides it, pressing back against Wade’s mouth and moaning like he’s lost all concept of shame. 

Wade moans into his ass and twists his tongue deliciously. Swirling all around and managing to prod just deep enough to press over and into Peter’s sweet spot, which he then proceeds to  _abuse_. 

Peter is shaking under Wade’s mouth by the time spatters the sofa with come and when he tries to pull away afterwards, Wade grabs him by the hips and pushes him forward himself, with a departing kiss to his slick hole, so he can’t slump down, instead pinned against the now wet cushions with his ass still spread wide for Wade. 

He tries to close his legs but Wade knocks them open again. 

“No way, Jose. I won, and now I get to claim my prize.”  
“What?! There- that wasn’t a bet!”  
“Sure it was. You said prove it and I did. Ergo: I won.”  
“That’s  _not_  how bets work.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/post/173820351316/a-drabble-request-sent-via-dm-by-the-lovely)


	2. In Which Peter Can’t Ask for What He Wants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Request:** _Peter makes a joke about not having a gag reflex and Wade can’t stop thinking about it._

The city is currently enduring the hottest summer on record and Peter is not entirely sure he’s going to survive. 

Post-patrol tacos with Wade have turned into post-patrol  _whatever’s coldest and available at six in the morning_. Peter is currently splayed back on a rooftop lazily sucking on a drug store popsicle while the bag holding the rest melts. Wade is currently staring at his mouth. 

“Why do you  _do_  that?” Wade asks, a little pained and entirely without context. Peter slides the popsicle from his mouth with a small ‘pop’ to answer.  
“Do what?”  
“You know.” Wade mimes Peter sticking the popsicle so far into his mouth that it nearly disappears. Peter shrugs as good as he can manage from his spot on the ground.  
“It’s less messy. This way I don’t miss a drop.”   
“It’s not- hard?”   
“Not when you don’t have a gag reflex.”

Wade chokes on the air and Peter definitely has  _no idea_  why. 

* * *

He’s noticed Wade watches him closer now, when they eat, and honestly he can’t have Wade thinking he’s a liar, so it’s possible he hams it up just a little when he sucks down the frozen treat of the day- which. He’s left choice up to Wade the last couple weeks, and he hasn’t missed the fact that since that day it’s  _always_  popsicles. And not just popsicles, popsicles of increasing length and girth.

“I thought you said you do it so you won’t miss a drop?” Wade’s voice is- there’s something  _off_  about it, though he’s not sure what, still a little discombobulated from being pulled from his thoughts.  
“What?” Wade mimes what Peter does with the popsicles, again, and reaches out to drag a gloved finger over his skin.

He sucks it into his mouth before he even realizes what he’s doing and Wade  _smirks_  as he flushes bright red, tasting the sticky sweetness he’d pulled from his cheek and realizing what’s just happened. He goes to speak but Wade won’t remove his finger, instead pinning his tongue down and slipping it further into his mouth. 

“No way, baby boy. You’ve been teasing me for  _weeks,_  you don’t get to talk until you learn to use your words.” Peter absolutely  _does not_  whimper.

* * *

He hadn’t been sure- he hadn’t been  _really, totally, and entirely sure_  until Spidey sucked his finger into his mouth without a fraction of hesitation, but he’d been very, very suspicious. And now he  _knows_. 

Spidey definitely wants it, and he’s going to make him say it. After-all, he deserves a little recompense for the way Spidey has forced him to rub himself raw the last few weeks, doesn’t he?

He slips his finger out of his mouth, dragging down over his chin so he has a chance to speak.

“Shit, Wade, I have no idea-”  
“Bzzt! Wrong answer, sweetheart. Try again.”  
“But I-”  
“Tell me how you  _really feel_ , baby boy.”

It takes some more coaxing, more teasing during which Wade has the chance mourn the fact that Spidey’s costume is currently stopping him from finding out just how deep that flush runs, but eventually he gets him to say it.

“Fine! Fine, I want to suck your dick. Are you happy now?” He really, really is, actually.  
“I’m so proud of you for using your words, baby boy. Now come on, all you have to do is ask.”  
“What?!” Peter yells. “You just made me-”  
“Shh. Nice boys ask for what they want, Spidey. Aren’t you a nice boy?”

It takes a while for him to react, but Wade  _knows_  he’s going to do it.

“ _Please,_ ” He grinds out, sounding hilariously grumpy about it. “May I suck your cock?”

* * *

Wade just about gets his dick out on the rooftop before Peter drags him down into an alleyway somewhere. He can’t bring Wade home and he’s not sure he  _wants_  to see where Wade lives, so alleyway it is. 

He doesn’t waste a second, yanking Wade’s pants down so his cock bobs in Peter’s face. He’s so close he can feel the heat radiating off him. He’s wanted this for  _weeks_  and Wade’s already made him admit it, so why pretend he’s any less interested than he is?

He sucks Wade right down to the root and and moans while Wade shudders.

“Holy fuck- you really  _don’t_  have a gag reflex.”  
“Mmm.” Peter hums smug over his cock. 

He takes Wade deep every time and when his hands come up to grip the back of Peter’s head he lets his neck go slack so Wade can fuck up into his face without any difficulty. He’d love to savour Wade’s cock, drag his tongue over every inch of skin, suck him slow and sloppy until they’re both a mess, but this is already way too stupid, seeing as they’re technically in public, and he needs Wade to come sooner than later. 

He can work on the rest another day. Maybe even later today. 

Surely there’s a hotel somewhere in the city that’s skeevy enough to rent to Deadpool, he’s sure Wade knows a place. 

Wade is fucking into Peter’s face hard enough to make his jaw ache and when he’s pressed in particularly deep Peter swallows around his cock, reaching up to push a hand against his own throat to press tight around it and make sure Wade feels every bit of the movement. 

“Oh my- fucking- baby boy-” Wade chokes out incomplete sentence after incomplete sentence and spills himself down Peter’s throat, grinding up into his face hard enough his mask rides up enough to obscure his vision. 

He sucks hard as Wade pulls away, making sure he’s mostly clean and swallowing everything Wade gave him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/post/173830742941/another-drabble-request-that-ties-in-quite-well)


	3. In Which Peter Takes One for the Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Request:** _Peter wants deadpool to stop killing, deadpool tells Peter he'll stop killing when Peter stops withholding his perfect ass. To deadpool's surprise, Peter (reluctantly) agrees out of some sense of duty._

You know, you’re never going to be an Avenger if you keep killing people!”

Peter is angry and more than a little bitter. He’d  _trusted_  Wade. He’d thought Wade meant it when he said he wanted to be better, he’d vouched for him and brought him along when Cap had called, hoping it would give Wade not only a chance to prove himself but some incentive to stop killing altogether. 

He  _wants_  to like Wade. Desperately.

No- that’s not right. He already likes Wade too much, he  _needs_  to be able to believe in him.

“What can I say, baby boy? It’s just not in my nature.  _Killing_  is in my nature. Really, you should give it a-”  
“Wade, I’m being serious-”  
“So am I! Come on, Spidey, you know me at least well enough to know it’s true.” He’s fairly certain he doesn’t imagine the bitter edge to Wade’s voice, but it clears quickly.

“The day I stop killing will be the day you give in and let me have a go at that perfect tush, baby boy, and I think we both know that’s never going to happen, so why waste your breath?”

By the time he works up the nerve to react, Wade’s already turned away to leave.

“What if I did?”  
“What if you what?” Wade doesn’t sound particularly interested in his answer, doesn’t even slow his stride.  
“What if- if I let you fuck me. Would you stop killing?” That stops him dead in his tracks. When he rounds on Peter there’s something very-  _restrained_  about the way he’s holding himself.

“You’d let me fuck you if I stopped killing?”  
“Yes.” Something in Wade’s voice has him wondering if he’s made a mistake.  
“Any time I want? Any way I want?”  
“I-” What does that even  _mean_? “I guess.”  
“I guess isn’t good enough, baby boy. I’m gonna need a yes or no on this one.”

Peter swallows nervously.

“Yes.”

* * *

He finds out what Wade meant very, very quickly. 

The police have only  _just_ left, carting away their latest take down, and Wade has him shoved up against a dirty brick wall, face first. He goes to push back out of instinct, but Wade laughs low in his ear. 

“What happened to our deal, baby boy? I didn’t kill that asshole, I think I’m definitely going to need an  _outlet_  or the next one won’t be so lucky.”

Peter gives a shuddering sigh and goes pliant under Wade’s grip as the other man moans in delight at his submission. When Wade reaches around his chest to release his suit he goes tense all over but he doesn’t resist. Wade sways forward and he can already feel the hard line of his cock through his suit, pressing up against Peter’s back. 

He hears the snap of one of Wade’s pockets and then two cold, slick, gloved fingers are pushing inside him without any warning. He cries out at the sting of the sudden stretch- Wade’s fingers are  _thick_  even without the leather, with the gloves the size feels like too much- but Wade just laughs.

“Better keep quiet, sweetheart, you don’t want anyone to see their  _hero_  like this, do you?” He sounds far too amused but- no. No he really doesn’t, and he resents the part of him buried deep in his chest that finds the idea of being caught  _thrilling_.

He expects a third finger but Wade doesn’t give it to him. He hears the click of his belt, the slip of his suit, the wet sound of him slicking his cock, and then sticky fingers are taking hold of Peter’s hips and pulling him back and up until he’s only barely managing to stay up on his toes.  

He feels the blunt, wide head of Wade’s cock burning against his skin, and before he can begin to worry about how much it might hurt he’s choking on the stretch of it. Pain flares up through his spine as Wade forces Peter’s body to open for him, giving him no chance to adjust, no leeway to pull forward, not one inch of forgiveness in the force behind his hips. 

By the time Wade bottoms out, balls brushing against his skin, he feels alternately hot and cold all over, unable to breath around how full he is. It hurts, it  _hurts_ , and worse than the pain is the realization that he misses it when Wade pulls back. 

He doesn’t have long to dwell, though, because Wade is shoving back inside of him, just as hard and much quicker than the first time, and it only gets worse- better, from there. 

The snap of his hips is bruising as he picks up speed, he’s not sure whether he’s grateful for the fact that the soreness of it will be gone by tomorrow or not. He chooses not to think about it, instead trying to focus on anything but the swell of heat low in his gut. He doesn’t- he can’t. He just  _can’t_.

Unfortunately resisting doesn’t bring him much luck. Wade’s cock, his grip, his  _smell,_ it’s overwhelming his senses and when Wade leans forward to bite into his neck and tell Peter he’s  _his_  now, he’s done for. 

* * *

When he gets home, the sun peaking over the skyline, he calls in sick to work despite the fact that he can’t particularly afford to and tries not to think. He doesn’t think about the way he’d said Wade’s name when he came, he doesn’t think about the way he’d been unable to stop his hands from lingering over the fast-fading bruises in the shower, and he  _really_  doesn’tthink about the way his cock is aching in his underwear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/post/173863699431/dr-peter-wants-deadpool-to-stop-killing-deadpool)


	4. In Which Peter Gets a Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Request:** _shower sex where Wade pees on Peter unexpectedly, Peter is all adorably shocked and Wade's all "just marking my territory"_

Peter feels hot and loose all over, energy and stress run out of him by orgasm, half-collapsed back against the shower wall while he pants, lungs never quite managing to feel full through the steam rising around them. 

He groans as Wade’s cock slides out of him, immediately missing the stretch of it. He likes to linger with Wade’s cock inside of him as long as the other man will let him have it, even fall asleep with Wade still inside him when they can manage it. It makes him feel- makes him feel like that’s all he’s good for, keeping Wade’s cock warm, giving him a convenient hole to fuck and spill himself inside of. Or on. 

He used to feel like maybe there was something wrong with that, it always feels amazing when Wade fucks him slow and sweet, but he  _loves_  when he makes him feel used. Still, in their current position it’s not so feasible. He makes sure to clench down on Wade as he slips free, both to savour the stretch and make Wade shudder against him.

Peter loosens his legs from where they’ve been wrapped around Wade’s waist, holding tight, and he lets himself slip down to his knees, loving the way Wade’s slowly-softening cock drags up his body as he goes. He’s sure to stay close for that specific reason, dipping in to press a kiss to the side of it once he’s settled back on his heels. 

He leans in so he can reach around Wade to grab the soap from behind him and squeeze some into his hands, aching with the want to suck Wade into his mouth when he brushes against his cheek, unable to stop himself from nuzzling into it when he pulls back.

Running soapy hands gently over Wade’s cock, not trying to get him hard- though he certainly wouldn’t be sorry if he did- down over his balls and back up again soothes Peter as much as it spurs an itch low in his belly. He’s just let go to rinse off his hands when Wade’s cock twitches and- and a hot stream of piss is hitting him in the chest, running down his body.

His mouth drops open, revulsion and hot, hot shame filling his chest and making pressure build in his gut faster than he’d thought possible when he’s only just come. He stares up at Wade with wide eyes and the other man just laughs at him as he reaches out to drag a hand through Peter’s hair, pulling him back roughly. 

“Wade,” He chokes out, voice less steady than he’d hoped, shaken by arousal. “Why-”  
“Shh, baby boy. Just making sure you know who you belong to.” His grip tightens and Peter whines. “Know what you’re  _good for_.” And that- crap, it’s too much, Peter wants to cry with how hot it gets him, cheeks burning with shame. 

His hands come up to clutch at Wade’s thighs as the other man finishes emptying himself on Peter’s chest with a relieved sigh.

“Wade,  _please_ -” He begs, not even sure what specifically he’s planning on asking for, only knowing that he  _needs_.   
“Don’t worry, baby boy. I’ve got a job for you.” Wade grins down at him and uses his free hand to wipe his soft cock over Peter’s face. Even with the water washing the worst of it away, he still carries the faint smell of piss and Peter’s eyes water as Wade feeds him his cock. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/post/173929383656/dr-shower-sex-where-wade-pees-on-peter)


	5. In Which Peter Wakes up to a Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Request:** _Peter wakes up to an intruder in his bed who somehow manages to subdue him so he can fuck Peter. The intruder is actually Wade who managed to figure out Peter's identity after stalking Spider-Man a ton and finally can get his hands on him without Peter knowing its him._

Peter wakes up with a needle in his neck.

It’s hard to think- like there’s molasses permeating his mind, dragging back every thought- it’s even harder to move. This isn’t- there’s something very, very wrong, he thinks as he slowly becomes aware of the pressure on his chest, making it very, very hard to breath.

There’s a decent sting to his cheeks, like he’s been smacked, and when his vision sways, head lolling to the side, he tries to bring his hands up to push the blurry hands away from his face, but it’s too hard to connect and his hands are batted away easily.

He’d be frustrated, scared, even angry, if he had the wherewithal for it, but as it is he just lets his arms fall to the bed and groans, trying to stretch under the weight on his chest. His eyes can’t seem to focus on the figure above him, but they’re too dark, obscured to see, anyways.

* * *

Peter’s squirming underneath of him, clearly uncomfortable, totally disoriented, and exactly how Wade wanted him. Technically, he could have just left him asleep, but he wants him to  _feel_  what Wade is going to do to him, be aware of every second of it. 

Well- mostly aware. Not quite aware enough to fight back. Hopefully aware enough to remember, the only downside there is that Wade can’t risk speaking much, which- not exactly easy, for him.

He stares down at Peter’s glassy, unfocused eyes, and mouth hanging open. Reaching out to trace his soft lips, he knows exactly what he wants. When he slips his cock past Peter’s lips, drawing a soft, confused noise from the boy underneath him, it’s impossible to stop himself from groaning. 

Peter whines in protest, like he’s trying to speak against the intrusion in his mouth, and Wade muffles it with his cock, pushing in deeper. It’s thrilling in a way few things are these days, watching his cock disappear past Peter’s lips while his sleepy eyes struggle to hold focus, trying and failing to discern exactly who and what is happening to him. 

Even without suction, the warmth and the wetness of Peter are enough to get him leaking, though somehow the subdued, wet gurgles around his cock are the best part. Like Peter’s not sure what’s happening and can’t quite decide if he likes it. Maybe that’s just Wade’s imagination, but he’ll take it.

He’d love to fuck his mouth properly, paint that soft face with his come, but the truth is he’s not a hundred percent sure how long the drug will last on Peter, and he wants his real prize.

When he’s down between Peter’s legs with his knees bent up to the sides of his chest, splayed open, Peter barely even fights him. Giving up quick with an exhausted sigh and letting his legs hang open. 

He can’t resist a quick lick from his ass to his soft, pretty cock, but again, he can’t waste time. 

He slicks his cock and Peter’s hole, but he doesn’t stretch him out at all. It’s a risk, sure, the pain could break through the haze a little, bring some clarity, and it wouldn’t take much for Peter to overpower him, but he’s already had to give up  _so many_  of the things he wants to do to him, for the sake of caution. Can’t he at least have this. 

Peter lets out a wet, torn whimper when he pushes in, he’s so tight it half feels as though he might bruise Wade’s cock. It’d be well worth it. Peter’s legs try to close as he starts to thrust in but it’s far too late and Wade can’t help laughing just a little. So silly.

Instead he knocks Peter’s knees out of the way and fucks him until there are tears streaming down his face and his cock has grown hard despite them. The fact that like this, in the state he’s in, Peter can’t hide, from himself or from Wade, that he’s getting off on this whether he wants it or not, well, that might just be his favourite part. 

Peter’s body clenches around him when he finishes and Wade is overwhelmed by the sudden, urgent desire  _not to come_. It’s an exceptionally higher amount of self control than he’s exercised in- maybe ever, but he pulls out and crawls up Peter’s body instead, before his clenching can drag Wade over the edge. 

Wade strokes himself, dragging his cock over Peter’s confused, tear-stained face, holding him in place with his other hand when he tries to get away. He really is so damn pretty. 

He shudders as orgasm tears through him, hard and painful and the best he’s had in years. When he’s done he doesn’t bother trying to resist the urge to rub his come into Peter’s skin, push some into his mouth while Peter pouts around his fingers, eyes struggling to stay open.

When he slips out the window he’s already wondering how risky it would be to hide out by the window to watch Peter wake up properly and realize what’s happened to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/post/173959757766/dr-peter-wakes-up-to-an-intruder-in-his-bed-who)


	6. In Which Things Get Sticky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Request:** _Peter wakes up to Wade eating some type of dessert from between us ass cheeks. Idk what, something with whipped cream maybe?_

Wade slips in Peter’s window and finds himself greeted by the sight of his boyfriend passed out naked on the bed, face first. He’s wrapped around a pillow in a way that leaves his ass propped up on display, pointed right in Wade’s direction.

He makes it about one step forward before his stomach growls and he freezes.

He has  _an idea_.

Peter’s fridge is pretty bare, but he’s got all of the essentials. Whipped cream, ice cream, some cherries shoved towards the back of the third shelf down. Peter clearly bought them to make himself feel vaguely better about his truly abysmal nutritional habits- coming from Wade that’s  _saying something_ \- but he can’t pretend he minds. He’s got bigger and better plans for them, anyways.

Once he’s settled on the bed, naked and laid out on his stomach behind Peter with the food dumped on the bed next to him, he can hardly contain his glee. Honestly, Peter’s ass is already pretty much his favourite thing to eat, Peter’s ass  _and_  ice cream? It’s almost too much. 

He spreads Peter open and runs whipped cream right down the centre of him, his dick is already hard against the bed because  _somehow_  this is already even better than he’d imagined, and he’d imagined it being pretty fucking incredible. He spreads far more whipped cream over Peter’s ass than is truly reasonable, and reaches next for one of the cherries. 

The sight of Peter’s greedy little ass stretching open around the small, red fruit and sucking it in, stem still sticking out, has him grinding down into the mattress. Peter shifts his hips down like he’s searching out  _more_ , always so wanting, even in his sleep, how the fuck did  _Wade_  of all people get so lucky?

He’s officially losing his patience when he sticks his hand into the ice cream container, he knows Peter will give him shit for ruining it later but he’s pretty sure he’s going to get an orgasm out of it before he does, so, small sacrifices.

* * *

Peter is- Peter is  _cold_. He’s also extremely hard, dick trapped against the pillow underneath of him, and- fuck-  _Wade_.

“Wade-” He starts, half demanding, half questioning. He doesn’t manage to finish his thought- not that he was even sure where he was going, he’s barely even  _awake_  enough to cope with- whatever this is, yet. Before he can manage, Wade drags a cold, sticky hand over his hole and follows it with his hole.

“Mhm?” He hums happily into Peter’s ass.  
“I- god- what are you  _doing?_ Wade, fuck-” Wade sucks at his hole and he feels a  _tug._  “Oh, god. Wade, what even- what did you put inside me?”

Wade laughs, nipping and licking his way down Peter’s ass and- fuck. He can feel something cold dripping down over his balls and that definitely shouldn’t be as hot as it is but it makes him shiver in a way that’s really not from the cold.

Now that he’s waking up properly, he can smell it, the sweet mess of ice cream and whipped cream from his fridge and he really,  _really_  shouldn’t be okay with this. He’d been having a perfectly good sleep- a rarity, for him- and they’re getting a mess everywhere and this is  _definitely_  not sanitary but, on the other hand, Wade’s  _mouth._

When they’d actually started dating- or, fucking, because that had definitely come first- Wade had wasted approximately no time showing him that it wasn’t just good for getting on Peter’s nerves. Secretly, it was probably already his part of Deadpool, now though, it’s  _definitely_  his favourite part of Wade for  _so many_  new reasons. 

He should really  _stop_  thrusting against the pillow under his hips if he doesn’t want to come too soon, already able to feel the mess he’s making there, but when Wade comes back to his hole to suck with a new intensity, moaning into his ass, he really can’t help it. When Peter feels whatever Wade has put inside of him slip free, it takes next to no time at all for him to come. 

He’s expecting Wade to lick him clean, but instead he’s left with the sticky, wet mess between his cheeks and Wade is flipping him over and tugging him down the bed, dragging through the mess on his stomach as he crawls up over Peter’s body to press their lips together. 

Wade’s mouth is full of Peter’s own come and-  _cherry_ , fuck, when he moans up into the kiss, half laughing. That’s what Wade had inside him- ridiculous. He truly has no excuse for being half as into it as he is. 

* * *

Wade’s satisfied with the idea of rubbing off against Peter, maybe flipping him back over and grinding up into the mess he’s made of his ass, but Peter has other plans. 

With next to no effort he’s got Wade pinned down, straddling his thighs and he wants to fight, half instinct, half fun, but when Peter grabs the whipped cream- with one hand and Wade’s cock with the other, well, his instincts change. They change  _very fast_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/post/173979859606/drabble-request-peter-wakes-up-to-wade-eating)


	7. In Which Peter Is Wade’s Baby Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Request:** _spideypool- they've been dating but Peter has been avoiding having sex cuz he has a micropenis and is embarrassed, I want the scene where they first have sex and Wade discovers it and like loves it, he loves that he can fit it and Peter's balls in his mouth at the same time. Also likes seeing his dick next to Peter's. Idk what else, just some small dick love. Would like a little humiliation for this too, like wade pokes fun but in an affectionate way if that makes sense?_

“It’s just… you might be- disappointed. By what you find.”  _By me_ , Peter doesn’t say, toying with the waist of his jeans and avoiding Wade’s eyes. Wade sincerely can’t believe what he’s hearing. Peter is on his bed, shirtless and red down to his chest, and he’s  _shy_. Not the typical blushing virgin shy, either, but shy like he thinks there’s any universe in which he could ever disappoint Wade by taking off his clothes.

There’s not. Wade’s visited most of them.

“ _Disappointed?!_ Baby boy, have you seen you? Have you seen  _me_? There’s no way I’m the one who’s going to be disappointed, here.” He’s already stripped down to his boxers, even his mask is gone, bracing himself over Peter.

Considering he’s already had to get used to seeing his own hideous mess of a body in the mirror, he’s pretty sure that nothing Peter’s hiding could compare. He’s even more sure he wouldn’t particularly care if it did.

Peter looks up at him like he’s torn between hugging Wade and crying and it’s- he  _never_  wants to make Peter cry, not real, sad tears, so he drops down over him and rolls them to the side, pulling Peter into his arms and getting a grip on his ass so he’s pulled up his body far enough to kiss him deep and dirty, pulling the breath from his lungs.

“Petey, baby, I really don’t give a fuck what you’ve got under there as long as you’ll let me put my mouth on it.”

He’s aiming for sexy, but Peter laughs into his mouth. He’ll take it.

“Fine.” Peter sighs, he still sounds apprehensive, like he’s sure that Wade’s going to be out the door as soon as he gets his jeans off, but Wade’s just going to have to prove him otherwise. 

He doesn’t waste a second getting Peter naked once he’s been given the green light, slipping back between his legs and sitting up to yank off Peter’s pants and briefs in one go, tossing them aside. Peter’s got his face, red, hidden away in the pillows like he’s ashamed, and when Wade looks down he’s greeted by the sight of Peter’s tiny, pink cock just barely peeking out from the thatch of curls surrounding it. 

It’s- it’s  _adorable_. 

It’s perfect. Perfect that his sweet, little, baby boy should have a sweet, little, baby cock to match. 

“I’m not  _that small_. You’re just fucking huge.” Peter protests above him, voice still a little wet. Wade’s eyes don’t leave his cock, unconcerned with the fact that he’s apparently been speaking out loud. It happens. 

He pushes Peter’s legs open as wide as they’ll go, knees pressed up into the mattress by his sides, and knows he’s doing the right thing when Peter’s legs stay where they are when he takes his hands away to drop down onto his stomach and take hold of Peter’s hips. 

Without giving any warning, puts his mouth full over Peter’s tiny cock and sucks, moaning when he feels his boyfriend’s body jolt under the sudden touch. 

“ _Fuck_ \- Wade. What are you doing?!” He hand has come down to knead at Wade’s neck, and he’s willing to bet the other one is currently fisted in the sheets, holding him up where he’s halfway upright. 

“What’s it look like?” Wade grins over his cock, delighted to find that it’s small enough he doesn’t even have to remove his mouth from Peter’s skin to speak. “Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of genius?”

Whatever Peter’s about to say, it’s ruined when Wade opens wide and sucks Peter’s balls into his mouth, not letting his cock slip out. He’s messy and loud, obscene as he can manage just because he  _knows_  it’s going to embarrass Peter that much more. Which, he suspects, will get him off that much faster.

Not to mention, it’s just plain fun to see the way he goes red all the way down to his chest. 

All in all, it’s still not quite a mouth full. Peter is soft and delicate everywhere, right down to his balls, and Wade is definitely about the furthest thing it’s possible to be from disappointed. 

Peter is already shaking, rambling on overwhelmed and messy as Wade sucks at him, swirling his tongue around and over every inch of Peter in and around his mouth. It’s not difficult to figure out from how quickly he falls apart that no one’s ever actually  _done_  this to Peter, before. 

He wonders what’s happened to him in the past to make him feel so ashamed of himself, anything but gorgeous, and it’s a sincere struggle not to think of murder, but he figures Peter would probably appreciate if he stay mainly non-homicidal while latched onto his sweet, little cock. 

Wade barely even manages to work a finger into Peter’s ass before he’s careening over the edge, orgasm rocking through him hard enough that the grip of his legs, suddenly squeezing over Wade’s head, is enough to make him think he might just pass out like this, Peter filling his mouth with come. 

He doesn’t, though. Peter’s legs fall open just as sparks start to fly in Wade’s vision, and he pulls off Peter’s cock to crawl up his body, still dizzy, and drop down heavily onto the boy below him. 

He kisses Peter with a mouth full of come and he’s semi-concerned it might be a little too presumptuous, but Peter doesn’t miss a beat, hands coming up to grip Wade’s face as he pushes up into his mouth, languid and messy and full of want as come and spit seep from the mess of their mouths and down his cheeks.

When he pulls back, his own cock is fully hard, rubbing up against Peter’s, and just seeing the sheer difference in size is enough to push a bead of pre-come from the tip of his cock. He looks back up to Peter’s face, already ready to beg Peter to pull him off, let Wade fuck him, even let Wade jerk off into him. Literally anything he’ll give, Wade will take.

But there are tears shining in Peter’s eyes and when the boy smiles wide despite them and flips world upside down by  _thanking_  him and being the one to beg Wade- well, fuck. He’s certainly not going to say no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/post/174454819126/dr-spideypool-theyve-been-dating-but-peter-has)


	8. In Which Peter Gets His Happy Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Request:** _Peter is sore from some battle and decides to try getting a massage. Except he's an innocent cupcake and unwittingly goes to a place that secretly gives *special* massages to those who know what to ask for. SOMEHOW Peter accidentally gives the code for a prostate massage. Wade is his massage therapist._

Peter’s first mistake is going to a  _massage parlour_ , if he’d done a little research, he might’ve known what he was getting himself into just by the name alone, going here rather than a clinic or spa that offers massage. 

His second is not realizing that his own delight at finding a massage place open all-hours is probably a bad sign. The only people who go to massage parlours in the middle of the night have  _got_  to be people like him, which is to say,  _weirdos_. 

Peter likes to think of himself as the harmless variety of weirdo, but he gets that his life isn’t exactly usual.

Either way, any massage place open past a certain time of night has to be more than used to getting a particular type of clientele, and is, most likely, willing to indulge said clientele. 

His third, and most egregious error, is not listening to the alarm bells sounding off in his head when the massage therapist that greets him looks like a goddamn underwear model. Easily twice Peter’s size, muscles that Peter can practically see through his well fitted scrubs- another clue that all is not as it seems that Peter dismissed- and an easy grin that makes Peter feel hot all over.

Unfortunately, Peter is exhausted, sore, and perhaps a little too willing to overlook one or two warning signs in the face of- well, that face. It’s not every day someone that pretty is willing to spare Peter a glance when he’s out of uniform. He’s well aware that Wade- as he introduces himself- is only doing so because he’s being paid to, but sue him. It’s been a tough night. 

It was  _Matt Murdock_  of all people that had suggested he try getting a massage after patrol now and then, he’d recommended a place but Peter didn’t trust him quite enough to take it. Instead, he found this place. On the dingy side of cheap, close to home, and hopefully not the type of place where anyone’s going to care much where he got his bruises.

He’s so caught up in the man’s appearance that it takes him a second to realize he’s being asked a question.

* * *

“Oh! Oh. Um-yeah.”

Wade’s about eighty seven percent sure that the kid has exactly  _no_  idea what he just agreed to, going red as he fumbles for a coherent reply to Wade’s question. 

He’s tempted to leave it at that, truth be told he can’t remember the last time someone so  _adorable_  walked through those doors- if ever, and he definitely wouldn’t mind getting to put his fingers inside what appears to be a truly magnificent ass.

Still, professionalism. Or something.

“You sure?”  
“Yes.” The kid nods, stubborn. Clearly a little embarrassed. 

Good enough.

* * *

By the time he’s naked, lying face down on the massage table with a towel draped over his ass, Peter knows this is a mistake.

He knows this is a mistake because the second Wade steps into the room, his heart rate kicks up and he realizes there’s no way on earth he isn’t going to embarrass himself if he has to turn over, at any point. 

* * *

About thirty minutes later, Wade is straddling his legs, thumbs digging into his hamstrings hard enough to hurt, and Peter’s pretty sure this is actually the best decision he’s ever made. 

Everything Wade is doing to him hurts, but as soon as his hands move away, Peter feels his muscles he’s just finished working relax like they haven’t in- possibly ever. Definitely since before he got his powers.

When Wade’s fingers brush the edge of the towel, just grazing the swell of his ass, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t aware of it, very, very aware, but it feels way too good to really worry about it. 

When Wade flips the towel away entirely, exposing his ass and digging his fingers into the meat of him without missing a beat, Peter moans and grinds down into the table then freezes- fucking  _mortified_. He did not just do that.  _Why_  would he do that.

Wade’s fingers don’t stop their ministrations.

“It’s alright, it’s normal.” Wade says behind him and- fuck. He  _knows_  there’s no way he’s not imagining the tone in Wade’s voice, hearing what he wishes was really there, but real or not it’s definitely  _not_  helping Peter’s situation. 

“I- oh god, I’m  _so_  sorry.” Peter stutters, face burning against the cool plastic.  
“Don’t worry about it.” Wade soothes, voice like honey as his fingers dip between Peter’s cheeks and- shit. Shit, there’s no way- Peter’s  _definitely_ going to end up embarrassing himself. 

This isn’t- why didn’t Matt  _warn_  him?! They aren’t particularly close, but surely, Peter thinks, trying and failing not to whimper when Wade’s thumb grazes his asshole, this deserves some kind of heads up.

Wade’s slick fingers continue to press up over the crease of him, increasing force each time until this thumbs are catching over Peter’s hole, stretching him just the most tiny, almost imperceptible amount. Peter’s ninety percent sure he’s beginning to leak onto the table and he should  _really_  be putting a stop to this, for the sake of his own dignity- whatever’s left of it, but he can’t quite make the words leave his lips.

Then, a thumb breaches him and Peter cries out, hands flying up to grip the edges of the table, chest rattling as it hits him all at once- no, Peter, you moron, this is definitely  _not_  normal. 

“What are you-  _fuck-_ ” Wade trades his thumb for two fingers, burning just a little, and his touch is  _relentless_. Peter’s words are choked out of him when Wade immediately presses forward into his prostate, dragging over it slow and hard.

“Just relax.” Wade soothes. “It’s all part of the package.” And- and despite the heat in his gut, Peter feels his chest go cold.   
“Stop. Get off me. I’m sorry- I can’t-”

Wade’s fingers slip out of him as Peter scrambles up, pushing him away and doing his best to avoid his eyes, humiliated at the mess he knows he’s leaving on the table when he rises. He’s searching for the towel when Wade’s hands grab his wrists and he- he knows he can’t exactly break away from someone so much bigger than him without giving anything away, so he doesn’t try.

“Hey, kid. Are you alright?”  
“Yeah- sorry, I just- I didn’t realize this was, um-  _part of the package._ I’m an idiot- I’ll just-”  
“Slow your roll, baby boy.” Wade tugs him closer, forcing Peter to meet his eyes and- fuck. They’re so dark. “I don’t know if you’ve looked in a mirror lately, but if you’re into it, I’d be  _more_  than happy to take a late cancellation on the appointment as long as you stay right where you are.”

And- oh. Oh. Peter glances down to find Wade impressively hard under his clothes and, yeah. This is definitely not the wisest decision he’s ever made, but he’s absolutely making it.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s- fuck. Cancel my appointment. Definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/post/174481089876/dr-peter-is-sore-from-some-battle-and-decides-to)


	9. In Which Peter Has Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Request:** _Either Deadpool is crashing at Peter's or Peter at Wade's for whatever reason (they just have that kind of friendship) when Peter starts to have a sex dream, and how can deadpool possibly resist?_

Peter is passed out on his couch, face down and drooling onto the fuzzy throw pillow he’s got hugged to his chest. Wade would give him shit for it, informing him that those pillows are for decoration, not for drooling, if the way he’s splayed out, one long leg hanging off the back of the couch with the other bent up to his side, back bowed just slightly to the side, didn’t leave his ass so shamelessly on display.

His normally slack jeans are stretched out tight over his ass and- fuck. What Wade wouldn’t give to tear them off. He’s almost certain that without them in the way, Peter’s spread himself so wide he’d be able to see  _everything_. Even if he were just in his underwear, Wade would probably be able to see the stretch of cotton over his balls and-

Fuck.

Now he’s hard. 

He gets up, intending on heading to the bathroom for a cold shower, because as much as he makes absolutely  _no secret_  of wanting to get all up on that, jerking off onto a sleeping friend seems like solid no-no territory and that’s exactly what’s going to happen if he stays. 

Before he can take a step, Peter  _moans_. 

Life is truly unfair. 

Wade drops back onto the couch and sits on his hands, resigning himself to the fact that he’s going to end up watching Peter get himself halfway off against his couch because it’s as close as he’s ever going to get to the thing he wants most, these days. 

When Peter whines, particularly desperate, like he might cry, and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like  _so big,_ Wade considers the fact that he might just have to cut off his hands entirely, because sitting on them is not going to be enough.

Peter continues to grind against the pillows, arching up so his ass is on the fullest display it can be, just for Wade, whether he knows it or not, Wade thinks that it might be a pain in the ass, but he’s definitely lost limbs for less. 

Worth it.

He’s just about to take steel to skin when Peter cries out again, this time moaning a name, filthy and sickeningly full of want into the pillow.

“ _Deadpool_.” His voice is urgent and hips are stuttering, ass pushing back against invisible hips like he’s looking for- looking for  _Deadpool_. That fuck with the stupid name who can’t possibly deserve him, can’t possibly treat him as right as Wade would, whoever that lucky piece-  _wait_. 

Wait, no. That’s not right.

Deadpool. 

 _He’s_  Deadpool! 

That- well, now, that changes everything.

“ _Wade…I- Wade-_ ” Peter breathes. His name, that’s definitely  _his_  name. He’s used  _both of Wade’s names_. It’s- fuck, the idea of what, exactly Peter could be thinking is torturing him. 

Wade wants- Wade  _wants_. He wants to know a lot of things- what exactly is Peter dreaming about, for once- and he wants to do even more. Still, though, what he really wants is for Peter to know it the first time Wade gets inside that gorgeous ass of his. 

Another, even more desperate, frustrated whine escapes Peter’s lips and- well. Just because he can’t fuck him properly doesn’t mean he can leave him hanging, it just wouldn’t be right, really.

“Don’t you even worry, sweetheart.” Wade soothes a sleeping Peter as he readjusts, laying down on the too small portion of the couch behind Peter, he could not possibly give less of a shit how comfortable it is. “Daddy’s got you.”

He grins to himself and, not wanting to change his position too much and risk disturbing his sleep just yet, does the only logical thing. He tucks his fingers under the waistbands of Peter’s jeans and briefs, and tears them straight down the middle, pushing the fabric to the side so it bunches up around Peter’s thighs and leaves his tight, muscled ass splayed wide and bare under Wade’s eyes.

He’s gorgeous. Perfect, fucking delicious, Wade’s willing to bet. He’ll soon find out. 

Just as predicted, with how wide he’s spread himself, Wade can just barely see Peter’s sweet hole buried between full cheeks. He reaches up to fill his hands with Peter’s ass, pulls his baby boy open and dives in. 

When his tongue drags up the centre of Peter, he can hear the boy moaning at the same time as Wade’s own is torn deep from his chest. He doesn’t hold back, he lets himself get messy, filthy, nipping at Peter’s skin, dragging his tongue over his balls, sealing his lips around Peter’s hole to suck, eliciting a particularly rough push back from Peter’s hips. 

He finally shoves his tongue in Peter’s ass, appreciating the aching, fluttering pressure that feels like it might just rip his tongue off- again, awkward, but worth it- and Peter moans his name again, a little clearer this time.

And again- less a moan, this time, and more a question. 

“W-Wade? Wade?! Oh- fuck, Wade- what are you- what did you do to my jea- _oh my god-”_ Peter’s increasingly frantic, confused babbling is cut off when Wade slips a finger in alongside his tongue and pulls. 

“Fuck- Wade. You can’t just- this  _isn’t okay._ ” Peter insists, vehement but shaky. Wade pulls back with a sigh, replacing his tongue with two more fingers, he doesn’t miss the way Peter melts back into the stretch even as he catches sight of his distressed expression.

“Is it not everything you dreamed it would be?”  
“Shit, you heard-”  
“Come on, Petey. You’re awake now, you can walk away if you want to, I won’t even try and stop you. But, if you’re staying, which I think we both know you are, you might as well tell me what you want, baby boy.” 

Peter cries out, sounding tortured, and Wade  _knows_  he’s winning. He crooks his fingers a little rougher than before and drops down over Peter, covering him completely as he speaks low into his neck.

“I’ll make all your dreams come true, sweetheart.” He grins as Peter chokes out a half pained laugh.  
“Fuck- Wade. You’re so ridiculous. I can’t-”

Wade tugs at the rim of Peter’s asshole, it turns out he can.

About forty seconds later, he’s got Peter flipped over, hoodie and t-shirt pushed up to his neck, pinching the base of his cock as he slides his own now-slicked cock inside him and Peter whines for more despite himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/post/174552837486/dr-either-deadpool-is-crashing-at-peters-or)


	10. In Which Peter Waits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Request:** _Wade has Peter in a cock cage but is also using a prostate massager on him. Peter begging for the cage to come off but Wade refuses and makes him come that way._

Wade has to leave the apartment early, but not before making sure Peter will be waiting exactly as he likes him when he gets home. It’s not every day they’re able to do something like this, Peter’s got places to be, after all, but they’ve set today aside just to have some fun.

He gets Peter’s limbs all bound together, legs bent back so his heels dig into his ass, arms pulled tight behind his back, and straps him down to the table by the knees and the neck, spread open with his ass in the air. The vibranium woven into the fibres of the rope mean Peter is well and truly helpless, entirely at the mercy of Wade or anyone else who could end up in the apartment.

He adds the finishing touch- a small, tight cage for Peter’s cock, ensuring any arousal will be met with pain and making it truly impossible for him to have any hope of finding friction, no matter how he maneuvers himself. Combined with the small, silicone oval that attaches to the base, slipping inside Peter almost too easy, he makes sure Peter’s in for a rough day.

That’s how he leaves him.

* * *

Wade spends all day playing with the app on his phone, tapping away at new settings at random, starting and stopping with no warning. He wonders if he’s worked his sweet baby boy to tears yet, wishes he could see his face.

Soon.

* * *

Peter’s face is covered in come and he’s crying and hiccuping around the fruit Wade is slowly feeding him.

“That’s it, baby boy. Finish your dinner and I’ll let you come.” Wade soothes. Peter lets out a shuddering, wrecked noise that sounds like it’s being pulled from somewhere deep inside.

“Please-” He begs. “Please, Wade. I can’t do it. I feel- I feel-”  
“Shh, just one more piece, sweetheart.”

Wade likes to push, sometimes, when he can see that Peter is clearly already well past his limit and bending dangerously towards his breaking point, just to know that he’ll never say no to him. 

Peter eats one more piece. He’s such a good boy.

“Alright, baby boy,” Wade leans back with a grin and relief washes over Peter’s face. It doesn’t last. “Go ahead.”

Peter stares up at him with eyes full of confusion, shortly followed by pained, desperate horror.  
“Wade- no.” He’s crying. “I-I need help. Please. Need you to take this off or I won’t be able to-”  
“Shh,” Wade presses a finger against Peter’s lips, messy. “You will, sweetheart. You’ve just gotta want it enough.”

“It’s not- it hurts-”  
“You can do it, baby.” Wade reaches for his phone and turns up the intensity of the vibrations, savouring the way Peter’s body convulses as he cries out, wet and broken. 

Peter’s shaking, slick with sweat and flushed all over, damp hair curling over his nape and cheeks and Wade just about forgets what he’s doing for a moment, so caught up in  _Peter_  and the unbelievable reality that this is what he wants, and, even more so, that Wade is who he wants it from.

“ _Wade,_ ” Peter cries out, sharp, pulling Wade back to the situation. “Wade, please. Please, just- give me something. Please, Wade- it hurts- I need you, I need help, Wade.” His body convulses again and for as much as he’s begging for help, Wade knows he’s close to getting there on his own. 

He eyes the way Peter’s swollen cock is practically bursting from the gaps between the metal, angry and red, and wonders if it  _also_  has super strength. All of their toys have vibranium in them, because Wade’s got  _connections_ , and more importantly, money with nothing better to spend it on- literally, he can’t imagine anything he’d rather spend it on- but he wonders if Peter’s cock has super-strength too.

Would it be able to break through a regular cock cage? They’ll have to test it.

Anyways.

Point is, he can  _see_  how much pain Peter is in, and he can also see the mess he’s making, leaking all over himself and the metal, dripping down his balls and onto the table. He knows he can finish like this.

Still, he feels  _almost_ a little bad. 

He hops up on the table and spreads his legs, scooting forward so Peter’s sticky face is pressed against his flaccid cock. He knows Peter likes it, finds the scent, heat, weight of him comforting, though he’s always severely humiliated by it, after the fact. 

Peter looks up at him with glassy eyes and blotchy red cheeks as he nuzzles into Wade’s cock, inhaling deeply.

“T-thank you.” He can hear the conflicted mess of hurt appreciation in it, knows it helps him  _feel better_ but it’s not what he needs, not what he was begging for, and can’t help grinning to himself as he pets through Peter’s hair.  
“You’re welcome, baby boy. Such good manners.”

He hooks his knee around and brings his foot up to press the plug into Peter even harder. Peter  _sobs_. 

He does it again, and again, and turns the vibrations up all the way. Peter makes a ragged, torn up noise, shudders, and-  _finally_. 

There’s a hot, sticky mess gushing out around the metal, running down to the floor as Peter pants against Wade’s skin, mouthing mindlessly at his balls just a little, tremors still running through him with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

* * *

Wade gets him unbound, slowly massaging his limbs, pressing lips and fingers into the indents left behind by the rope, just hard enough to ache with relief and make Peter tremble. 

He baths him and spends all night tracing his bruises while Peter is already making plans for  _tomorrow_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/post/174562525231/dr-spideypool-where-wade-has-peter-in-a-cockcage)


	11. In Which Only Wade Knows the Secret Ingredient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Request:** _Deadpool jerking off into some food (a taco?) that he then brings to his meet up with Spidey to give him. Deadpool always brings food, so Peter doesnt think anything of it. Wade likes to watch him eat it._

Wade pictures the perfect, delighted little smile that’ll catch Spidey’s lips when he hands him the food he’s brought for their post-patrol snack. The one Spidey thinks he doesn’t see, the one  _he_  might not even realize he makes. 

He thinks about how he’ll thank him, and how he’ll keep smiling, just a little, all the way through the meal.

He thinks about how he’ll lick his lips when he’s done and that- that does it. 

Wade comes, straight into the carefully unwrapped taco he’s just picked up at the food truck around the corner, making sure to get his release down the length of it. Wouldn’t want to waste a single bite.

With a heavy, happy sigh, he tucks himself away and carefully rewraps the food, then heads out, back to the rooftop where he knows Spidey is already waiting for him.

* * *

It’s possible this isn’t a good thing, that Wade does, but really it’s just to tide him over. Just until he can come down Spidey’s throat himself, directly. Know that he’s at least leaving  _something_  of himself behind, some type of claim, even if no one else knows it.

Maybe.

Or maybe he just likes seeing Spidey eat his come. Who cares? What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

* * *

“ _Yes_ , finally.” Spidey moans, making grabby hands for the food Wade’s carrying. So eager. “You took forever, man. I’m starving.”  
“Aw, miss me, baby boy?” Wade teases, making kissy noises at Spidey as he fishes out the still warm taco, neatly wrapped in tinfoil, and hands it over, dropping down next to him to dangle his legs off the roof. 

“I missed  _you_.” Spidey coos, speaking directly to the food as he rolls up his mask. Such a loser. 

Wade watches out of the corner of his eye as Spidey unwraps the food, hardly breathing as he takes his first bite and  _sighs_. Sighs like he’s never had anything so delicious.  
“It’s  _so good_.” Spidey moans messily around his mouthful. “Honestly, Deadpool, I don’t know where you find these places, nothing I get is ever as good.” Something deep in his gut is aching, both deeply satisfied and  _wanting_ , as if that should even be possible.

“Guess you’ll just have to keep me around then, huh, baby boy?”  
“Guess so.” Spidey shrugs with a small smile. “It’s just the right amount of salt, you know?” Wade almost chokes around his own taco.

“Yep.” He coughs. “Definitely. Absolutely.”  
“Everywhere else goes too easy on it. Are they  _afraid_   _of flavour_?” Spidey bemoans, like he’s not, by his own admission, likely to be living off of food exclusively out of cardboard boxes to be heated in the microwave.

Soon, too soon, Spidey finishes his food. Licking his wet, slick lips in a way that makes Wade want to whine and swinging off into the night with a belly full of his come.

* * *

Every night is the same. Sometimes he could  _swear_  he catches a glimpse of a little bit of stick white, stuck to Spidey’s lips before he catches it with his tongue. He’s never quite certain of what he’s seeing, but it just about stops his heart, every time.

Every night Wade goes home, gets off, and  _wonders_. Is it really the food Spidey loves the taste of so much? Does it just hide the taste of what Wade’s done, or is it him? Is it  _his come_  that his baby boy can’t get enough of.

With his super Spidey powers, he’s willing to bet it’s at least a little column B.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/post/174573268661/dr-god-im-glad-for-anon-comments-because-i-feel)


	12. In Which Wade Says the Magic Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Request:** _just because that anon with the ask about hypnotism made my brain go here: Wade, without Peter's knowledge, has hypnotized Peter so that with a trigger word he will instantly come. The first time he tests it out is in front of all the avengers after they've defeated some big bad._

“We’re going to have to be careful how we approach this,” Steve is cautioning them all, stern but not cold. “If we’re not, the public is going to get scared.”   
They’ve only got a few minutes before news crews hit the scene, so they’re having an informal debrief. Peter is currently fighting to pay attention to cap’s words past the burning behind his ribs. It’s possible he’d gone a little too rough during the fight.

“Maybe the public  _should_  be scared-” Tony cuts in and- even though the pain- Peter can’t help rolling his eyes behind the mask.   
“Stark-” Cap starts, warning. There go the rest of their debriefing minutes.

He’s just tuning out and settling into the high pile of rubble he’s perched on when Wade pulls himself up to bump his shoulder into Peter’s, hard enough to make his ribs twinge. It hurts, but he can’t help grinning. There’s a lot to be said about Wade Wilson, but he’s definitely a boon of amusement when cap and Tony start going in circles again.

“What you think, baby boy?” Wade asks quietly, leaning in close-  _too_  close. Making Peter hyper aware of how damn big he is. He deliberately does not linger on the thought. “Who wins when they eventually take it to the mat?”  
“Shut up, Wade.” Peter answers, entirely without venom.  
“How many rounds you think? I bet Cap triumphs in four, but only cause Stark wants-”

But- no. Oh, god. No- no, Peter can’t concentrate on a damn thing Wade is saying because heat is swelling, sudden and without warning, with  _incredible_  pressure and frankly distressing urgency in his gut, shivers and spasms breaking out all across his skin and-  _fuck, no-_

* * *

“Spare me your high and mighty BS, Rogers-” Tony is beyond over Steve Rogers and his sanctimonious, holier than thou-  
“Yeah, sure,  _I’m_  the one with an ego problem, Stark. You ever looked in a mirror?” He’s going to punch him square in his pretty, righteous face, and he’s not even going to be sorry about it.”

“Oh, n- _fuck_!” Peter’s voice punctures Tony’s bubble of anger, loud and intense and- what? “I- oh, god. Nnhgh-  _why_ -”  
“Uh, kid? You alright?” He already knows the answer is clearly a  _no_. Peter is shivering and shaking, curling in on himself with legs gone rigid, clutching at the red and blue fabric over his stomach. 

“Yes!” He squeaks out, entirely unconvincing. Tony’s about to push when he notices Peter’s hand coming down- probably trying to be sneaky- to palm at his crotch and-  _what the fuck?_

* * *

Wade’s half expecting his plan to fail, if it can really be called a plan. Prank, maybe? Fetish? Some combination of the two, really. 

So, when it not only works, but works instantly and fucking  _beautifully_ , Wade finds himself hard pressed not to come in his pants right alongside Spidey.

He watches the boy next to him shiver and shake and  _moan_ , moan louder than he’d have imagined, shrinking back like he’s horrified by his own sounds but powerless to stop them. When he reaches down to palm at his cock with a small whimper, Wade is done for.

He stands, announces that Peter’s distress is on him- the result of some bad burritos- and scoops an indignant, but too distressed to do much about it, Peter up into his arms, hopping off the rubble and stage whispering that  _he’s got this_. 

* * *

Peter’s face, his neck, his chest, everything  _burns_. Burns so bad he can hardly think. The humiliation he feels is strong enough that he doesn’t protest when Wade picks him up, fuck, as long as he gets him  _away_  from here- where everyone is staring at him like they  _know_  exactly what he just did- he doesn’t particularly care. 

* * *

When Wade kicks open the door to what is clearly his apartment and drags Peter inside, he thinks  _maybe_  he should have protested. 

* * *

When Wade is tugging at his uniform and promising to  _clean him right up_  while he licks his lips, Peter is distinctly aware that this would also be an ideal time to protest. He is even  _more_  aware of the heat pooling fast in his gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/post/174747238781/dr-just-because-that-anon-with-the-ask-about)

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/) to say hello or submit a request ♥


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